


love sweeter than candy, cavities to the heart

by honestlyfrance



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Ghost Hunting, Little bit of angst, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Stargazing, it's all fluff I swear, just bucky loving sam okay, oh look it's all my headcanons at once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestlyfrance/pseuds/honestlyfrance
Summary: Sam needs to admit to himself that he does love Bucky and his cliches and sweetness. He does. He always did.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	love sweeter than candy, cavities to the heart

**Author's Note:**

> oh wow my first all fluff fic (with the excuse of a little bit of angst) and a few of my favorite headcanons ;D enjoy!

It’s not that Sam despised the idea of it, in fact, he  _ breathes _ it in like cocaine, feeling the rush and instant fall of his senses, and maybe it’s not actually drugs to him but maybe something milder, like, a kiss, one that is so slow and soft that it makes him scream at the deprivation, making himself aware of how desperate he just was about touch, literally any sort of touch, but then again, it’s  _ Sam _ we’re talking about; suppressed and no-nonsense, he couldn’t possibly want something so good like some cliche grand romantic gesture that is too cheesy for its own good, and maybe it’s for the best that he keeps quiet about this want because it’s not like he gets it every day.  _ Fine _ , he does get it every day and it’s too much it’s hurting like a cavity to his heart. 

It’s casual at first, more like good morning messages in, like, three in the  _ goddamn morning _ , but Bucky likes waking up at ungodly hours in the morning like some sort of demon just to pretend he’s going ghoul hunting, and then  _ Sam _ would have to wake up because the man is knocking on his house door like some F.B.I. agent —  _ Jesus, they weren’t even living together yet _ — talking about some show he’s watching on Youtube and how they should definitely go into the woods just to find some ghosts; Sam remembered the show the moment Bucky showed him, and he wished the idiot didn’t but now that sleeping in early at six in the evening to wake up at two in the morning just to “catch some ghouls” is so ingrained in Sam’s head he can’t find himself without doubling over in laughter from Bucky’s screams, and yeah the neighbors could practically hear their noise from the basement of Sam’s house, and the laughter that erupts once they’ve run out of the house, and any more obscene noises Sam can’t help sometime in five in the morning on the second-floor bedroom, but it’s become an intimate thing to feel so energized at six in the morning while Bucky cooks breakfast with Sam, still sore for running and kissing on the kitchen island that it doesn’t even take two months until Bucky had finally moved in the house.

Bucky had his own keys, and honest to  _ God _ the man  _ wept _ . He was a blubbering mess, and if Sam thought that this was how Bucky would react to being given a ring of keys that half of which he wasn’t even sure would work, with what always replacing locks and not replicating enough keys, he wonders what Bucky would think if he’d finally say  _ yes _ because it was still a casual thing, they weren’t anything official yet since Bucky’s still courting him like some prince, and even if they were practically roommates at this point, making each other breakfast and taking turns on doing the laundry, it only takes a week later for Sam to yell at the moon, half-drunk on gasoline store beer and Bucky’s own idiocy,  _ I’m the luckiest boyfriend alive! _ And, what if they were practically out in their sweatpants and jackets, taking their car to the middle of nowhere just because Bucky had decided that one second in a Thursday morning they should take this tradition to another level? They did reach the abandoned Church Bucky had seen on one of those many episodes, and Sam’s not a believer, really, he isn’t, but Bucky is, and when the man is all riled up and ready to do something, he does it with so much passion and enthusiasm it’s almost contagious.

They ended up not going, pulling over at the side of the road just at the end of the path that led to the building to stargaze whatever stars were left, but Sam had felt a chill run up on his spine the whole time and was nauseous all the way and  _ No, it’s not some flu, Buck, it’s really _ —  _ Oh, God _ — and Bucky’s soon drove them to this random diner in another gas station because he’s nice like that, even gives Sam enough time to swallow down his pills before mindlessly making out all skin and teeth clacking against each other in the public bathroom until they were kicked out, and, wow, they haven’t even had breakfast yet and they’re out here in some 7-11; Sam waiting in the car with his feet on the dashboard as if he didn’t care for his own car, and Bucky’ inside trying to buy hotdogs and water in his skintight sweatpants and  _ God _ there’s children because it’s after school and they’re in some random city they still couldn’t figure out what and it’s all too sudden that it had Sam keeling over and thinking, over and over again,  _ Fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck _ and maybe it’s fine— In fact, it was more than fine, it was  _ amazing _ and he felt like on cloud nine.

Bucky then came back, and he had the biggest smile Sam had ever seen and everything just feels so right, as if there’s nothing really else that matters at the moment. It’s a thrill, it is really, it’s all that is, and when Bucky’s leaned back all the way down in his reclined seat, almost choking on his water as Sam cracks more jokes, it takes all of his will power not to lie down next to his shaking body, joy just revibrating out of him. They kiss, languid and deep, and it’s just so good, the way Sam’s fingers weave themselves into Bucky’s hair as the man slides his tongue over Sam’s lips, earning a satisfying groan which,  _ believe it or not _ , Bucky had grinned into, and he couldn’t keep it off his face that they had to stop; they ended up laughing together, Sam still straddling Bucky by the hips and Bucky’s face buried into the headrest as if he couldn’t bear seeing Sam so relaxed and gorgeous — and he really can’t help it whenever Sam takes the lead, because it meant that Sam  _ wants _ as much as Bucky  _ did _ .

Their mornings now consists of Bucky waking up Sam by breathing into his ear, sometimes kissing him wide awake, but Sam doesn’t want that to be known; Sam then would make them breakfast sandwiches while Bucky gathers their supplies, and Sam doesn’t exactly know yet where they’re going to and Bucky keeps telling  _ It’s a secret _ and  _ I know that, Buck _ but when they arrive at whatever place Bucky had driven them to, Sam’s breakfast sandwiches were at waste because why eat sandwiches when you have a buffet waiting for you at the hotel? It’s like running away from home and it’s such a thrill that Sam  _ still  _ keeps making their packed breakfasts while Bucky tries to secretly pack their swimwear, and it’s ridiculous how Bucky goes on to great lengths to prove to Sam that he deserves every single romantic endeavor anyone can pull out their ass and—

Sam feels so amazing he actually  _ hides  _ it.

Sometimes this cavity turns into full-on panic, and there’s Sam going on days on end wishing that Bucky should just stop.  _ I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this _ , but  _ Baby, you do. _ Bucky wished Sam knew that the gods up above had shattered stars and sprinkled stardust into the glint in Sam’s eyes just to show the whole world the man is an absolute gift to the world, that Sam is the greatest blessing the world has come to become worthy of because the world really didn’t deserve Sam and his entirety, the world didn’t deserve his undying service, but Sam  _ does _ deserve every gift the world has to offer; Bucky thinks it’s to make up that it’s  _ this _ society that Sam has ended up in — it’s too less of what Sam deserves, and,  _ God _ , that man deserves too much of everything the universe will become dry when Bucky is done adoring Sam. 

Bucky wouldn’t be afraid to take the moon off its orbit just to make a necklace out of it so that Sam can wear the light of the night around his neck; Bucky wouldn’t be afraid to gather the stars in the sky to turn them into tattoos just so Sam can form every constellation known to mankind just by the simple flex of his angelic body; Bucky wouldn’t be afraid to sing Persephone and Hades’ song just so Sam could sleep peacefully during wretched nights; it’s because — all of this, is just for Sam Wilson, and Bucky  _ aches _ at the very idea that a man like him could turn insatiable just because the world has made him be as such. 

Bucky would definitely die for a man like him, and now that Sam’s here, he wouldn’t mind surviving for him, because Sam has that certain effect on people — he could absolutely lead a whole country with a simple  _ Please _ and Bucky wouldn’t doubt that the whole world would bow down for him. Maybe not exactly, but Sam is capable of such feats, one that is unimaginable and stuck in storybooks, yet to be the knight in Sam’s story? Scoff at that and pick up your dress, you’re the damsel and Sam’s his own hero, despite whatever force stops him from believing so. 

Sam would tell him to  _ Shut up _ and  _ Go to sleep _ because it’s barely past midnight and Bucky’s hovering over his bed with a blanket around his shoulders, saying something about  _ A meteor shower _ and obviously, Sam isn’t a fan of stars or planets, but Bucky is, and Sam, over the months of living together and sticking together, has formed an…  _ imminent  _ soft spot for Bucky’s interests and decided,  _ Why the hell not. They’re just balls of gas. _ Oh, how wrong he was. The view from the back porch was stunning, and the way the light passes and breaks the sky in half made Sam believe he wouldn’t mind dying like this, deep into Bucky’s arms as the warmth of hot chocolate basks their faces, humming contently as the sky burned brighter with every flash of light. It’s deafening, how gorgeous the scenery is, because  _ Yes, fuck, just bury me here and never let me go _ , yet Sam buried that feeling in his stomach, never to see the light of day again. He can't say that; unless he  _ truly _ loved Bucky, he—

He…

Sam  _ loved _ Bucky as much as… Bucky loved him— Bucky  _ cherishes  _ Sam. 

Bucky would die and then fight Achilles in the afterlife with a penknife if it meant that his and Sam’s love story would finally be the one being passed down for centuries, etched into the stars to become legendary, and it's this kindness within fate that led them here, is it not? Don’t they deserve a love story morphed into mythology over the centuries? To be whispered by divided lovers from war, love lacing right at the seams of the words,  _ I care about not letting him down _ , I  _ care _ about not letting  _ you _ down, and Bucky would fight Patroclus as well if it meant that Sam could live forever, to see the aftermath of their love bloom after wars and pestilence, to overcome the four horsemen of the apocalypse, now  _ that _ would be a legend written on tablets to be beheld by prophets and messengers. Bucky just wanted Sam to be remembered by the generations to come, is that too much to ask the world? 

Sometimes late at night, when the birds have dwindled down and the crickets have silenced, Bucky would sit up from the couch, awake and lively,  _ couldn’t sleep _ , he says,  _ couldn’t sleep when I’m not in your arms _ , he couldn’t say. He sleeps on the couch every time Sam’s mad at him and sleeps there willingly and on his own accord, feels that Sam shouldn’t fall asleep with a bad headache beside him in bed. Bucky would sometimes walk upstairs and wait at the door, weigh out his options, figuring out if he  _ should _ and in the end, it was always  _ yes, you will _ because Bucky loves Sam too much to let him lie in slumber alone, so Bucky  _ does _ crawl into Sam’s bed late at night, wraps his arms delicately around Sam as the man groans at the sudden change of weight in their bed.  _ Their bed _ . They’ve been together so long — a year? Yes, it was a year — yet they’ve melted into each other’s touch and haven’t realized so much time has passed as if they felt they’ve only aged a minute whenever they fell asleep with each other; time has stopped when their bodies relaxed against each other, and that’s even better to dream about because it was  _ real _ . It was  _ too _ real.

Sam’s heart ached and grows ten times bigger in the morning, because Bucky snores loudly beside him with his chin resting on Sam’s head, both of them in a tangle of limbs as the duvet rests at their feet, the warmth of each other too bright for the cold to linger — because  _ Bucky _ is still there, no matter how many times Sam might’ve kicked Bucky in his sleep. Bucky will  _ always _ be there because they both never seem to do any wrong for the other to think  _ I’m done with you _ , because they have a lingering mindset that  _ Yes, we must die together or live forever _ , and that mindset in itself was pure of love and adoration—

Yeah. Yeah, cliches were overrated, and Bucky is one of those cliches, but Sam wouldn’t want it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @francehonestly :D
> 
> what do y'all think?


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